


Up and Down Memory Lane

by SaltiSnacks



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Aged-Up Character(s), Allura (Voltron) Lives, Angst, Arguing, Author Bulks up Keith, Canon Compliant, Cussing, Divorce, Epilogue, F/M, Flashbacks, Happy Ending, Heartbreak, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Inner Dialogue, M/M, Men Crying, Metaphors, Nightmares, Not Beta Read, Pining Shiro (Voltron), Post-Canon Fix-It, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Similes, Sorry Not Sorry, The Author Regrets Nothing, Time Travel, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 02:47:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20686247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaltiSnacks/pseuds/SaltiSnacks
Summary: A time-traveling Keith is on board the Atlas. Shiro overhears a conversation. The house of cards crumbles.





	Up and Down Memory Lane

**Author's Note:**

> *I do not own any of the official characters. If I did, it wouldn't have had _that_ ending. I'm still angry nine months later.
> 
> **This was originally a Twitter thread I finally had the time to crush into submission with added scenes. I think I caught all of my errors and tense mistakes, but if I didn't, please ignore them. I apologize in advance for my gratuitous usage of the words stupid and stupidity.
> 
> ***Sexual content that isn't even covered by the mild tag. It's between bell pepper and pepperochini on the Scoville heat scale. Maybe it's cumin with a subtle warmth?
> 
> ****Some of you may need a tissue. It will seem repetitive, but I wrote it that way on purpose. Shiro is a mess. This covers about two years in total of Shiro's life.
> 
> *****I still will not tag Cuttlefish. I don't want my fics showing up under _that_ tag. Nope. Not doing it. Heads up, he's an asshole in this one.

Their sudden appearance on the Atlas bridge caused pandemonium. The startled “Quiznak.” and a slurred “Oh. So that’s how this happens.” before both succumbed to the quintessence overloading their systems.

On board medics rushed to get them stable as the crew stared in disbelief. Before him was a face and a voice he hadn’t seen or heard in months. Almost a full year of silence. Yet, it was so different.

Curtis had tried to get his attention, but he brushed him off and followed the team to the med bay. The wave of relief he felt when he heard they would both be fine. The aftereffects, however, would be brutal.

The argument he felt growing as a coffee was slammed on the secured table next to his elbow. Curtis still didn't understand no matter how he tried to explain. The recurring nightmares causing a rumble through already cracking foundations. A structure hastily built and not up to code.

The splashed liquid turned the wood a deep brown. A possible stain on what once had been blemish free, similar to a scar on a saddened face. One that had turned and walked away after a small tearful, “Congratulations.” before disappearing from his radar completely.

He tried not to think about it, and what it all meant. What he had been too blind to see. Too scared to see. Too damaged to see. The rift he had caused between them by pulling away and distancing himself.

No messages. No video calls. Nothing except silence. The loss hurt worse than the wounds from Sendak. Never healing and slowly bleeding out. Even though he had caused this, Keith had still been there. Not at his side, but still there in his sight.

Until he wasn't.

He tried not to admit to himself that he felt off kilter. He was a planet that suddenly, unexpectedly, lost its orbiting moon, turning his tide of emotions rampant. The waves licked at a crumbling substructure; a house of cards teetering in the wind.

Curtis had thought retirement would help. That had lasted less than four months before Shiro was going crazy with boredom, and caused one of their first major fights.

_“Shut. Up! You didn't fight. That was Voltron out there. The MFEs. Me! You were safe behind a console! You didn’t watch… She walked away and we just let her! You didn’t experience that. We did! I had to tell Coran his charge, his princess, his adopted daughter was gone. Not you! And now…”_

_I've lost Keith, too._

The Coalition and Garrison had welcomed him back with open arms. Rizavi won the bet on how long he would last before crawling back.

Atlas almost made him cry at her joy. The launch on their new mission sent a rush through his system. The stars spread wide as they broke Earth's atmosphere.

His new prosthesis was left forgotten in the closet of his quarters. Though sleek, it had never felt right. The replacement severed his connection to Atlas, another loss, like his tie to Black, adding to the ache. Replaced again by Allura's gift, he found he didn’t miss the elbow.

He laughed, startling himself, as he told the crew to “Hold on to something.” before making Atlas dance with barrel rolls and dives. Sling-shotting at full speed around the moon.

His peripheral vision gave rise to the ghosts of lions keeping pace beside them. The ache in his chest grew when he finally transformed her. The final battle behind his eyelids where it all started to go wrong.

They had won the war, but the taste of victory was bitter on his tongue. Turning acrid, cloying, choking each time he saw Lance or Coran barely living their lives.

Like him. He was living and breathing, but not _alive._

Fuzzy mirages of a figure with a hand on his hip as he stared out the view port. An imaged laugh made him spin in hope only for it to be dashed when Allura wasn't there. Pidge's technobabble he barely understood drifted on the recycled air. Hunk's bear hugs. Lance's brashness and cockiness.

For three months, he had slept alone. Jerking one morning when his ring caught the light, he realized he almost forgot he was _married._ Then Coran had quietly asked to rejoin the crew, and Curtis had shown up next to him.

Yet, they barely saw each other, what with Curtis now having to split his post with two other people. Separate dinners. One asleep while the other was awake. Missing each other by minutes, but deep down Shiro realized he didn’t really care.

Not like the gaping hole in his chest, the unhealed wound seeping fresh blood, when he heard about Keith from one of the other paladins.

Was this even a marriage?

*****  
Coran was as talkative and flamboyant as ever once he awoke despite the nausea, headache, and muscle spasms. He barely had the energy to turn his head. Yet, he was happy and so different from the present Coran.

He brought up fond memories of their shared past that made him smile and occasionally laugh. His hair still a bright orange-red, but showing bits of grey near his pointed ears. The mustache was still trimmed and cared for meticulously.

Their story was short and cryptic. A damaged fuel cell had exploded, somehow sending them through space and time. Only small tidbits of information were given beyond that.

“Who? How?”

“What, number one?”

“Never mind. Keith's awake. Is there anything you want me to tell him?”

“We should be here only a few quintants before our Holts, Hunk and…the rest figure out how to get us back. I remember this.”

That information made him perk up. They were back together in the future. After Allura's sacrifice, they had fallen apart like a chair missing its nails. Instead of uniting in bittersweet victory, they were spread out and rarely met unless it was for diplomacy, memorial dinners, or…weddings.

At least the paladins were anyway. He didn’t know if _he_ was included in ‘the rest.’

“Remind him to be careful about what he says to maintain the timeline.”

“But…”

“You have questions. I’m afraid I can’t answer them. He might not answer them, either. Not with…” He saw the pointed look at his flesh hand.

So it was the cause of the silence. The sucker punch hurt. “Oh.”

Coran looked like he wanted to say more, but instead slowly shook his head. “He's probably expecting you.”

“Uh. Yeah. I'll just…” With nothing else to say, he turned after giving a small sad smile.

He straightened his jacket and took a deep breath before walking into the next room.

Keith, like Coran, was older. He was just shy of fifty years old according to the information in his vest pocket. He hadn't seen the identification, but the doctor had stopped short and gaped at whatever was written on it before giving Shiro a strange look over his glasses.

His hair was in a tight salt and pepper colored braid laying over his left shoulder. The length coiled beside his head like a cobra prepared to strike; possibly falling down to his waist if he was standing.

Gone was the lithe body. A few added inches in height would bring him up to Shiro’s eyebrows. Bulk and muscle stretched the gown over pectoral muscles that would make any gay man weep and want to rest his face against in comfort. Relaxed biceps didn’t hide their strength. A tattoo spread down his right arm to his elbow, its meaning unknown to Shiro.

A large scar ran from his hairline in a slight diagonal across his face, luckily sparing his eye. One side of his mouth permanently pulled downward from damaged tissue and muscle.

But to Shiro, he was still beautiful beyond words.

Keith didn’t meet his eyes. Didn’t turn his head. Instead he stayed silent and stared out the small porthole at the passing stars outside Atlas.

He had been in this very bed after Zethrid had taken him captive.

His gut rolled. He had never visited. Too ashamed of freezing solid while he had been in danger. He had avoided him afterward for days. Once he had even turned around back out of the mess hall before being seen.

Who was he fooling? He had already been pushing him away for weeks before then. Those two phrases ingrained in the clones memories had drawn a line in the sand, and he had lost all hope. So he crushed it, and in turn broke their friendship to pieces.

Now, in hindsight, he wondered if that line was warped, wavy, and circled around his feet amongst the shards he had caused. It was, “You’re my brother. I love you.” not the other way around.

Unlike words sealed with two signatures at the bottom. Words he had jumped possibly too soon into while being lonely and missing Keith like another irreplaceable limb. Still recovering both physically and mentally after all he'd been though. All _they_ had been through.

They had won, but at a large cost. One that they were still paying as the heart of Voltron no longer beat amongst them.

Then they lost the lions. Their sudden departure left them reeling again in the aftermath.

Pidge had been desolate. Hunk mourned. Lance had been horrifyingly silent, locked in his room, for days. Keith… had tried to stay stoic and strong, but Shiro had known. He knew he fell apart in the silence of his own room.

He had almost knocked. Almost attempted to snuff out the fire he had set on the bridge between them, but his courage failed. His data pad blipped a notice for his date with Curtis at the very diner he took Keith to when he was younger. It felt like betrayal, and he almost didn't go.

He made a choice to move on as best he could. Not listening to gently worded caution from friends and found family.

Ignored warning signs and alarm bells as Keith grew more and more silent as the wedding approached. His smile growing smaller and tighter. His responses shorter and clipped each time. The light dying a slow death in his eyes. Retreating back into the shell Shiro had patiently guided him out of all those years ago.

The one and only picture captured at the wedding showed Keith listless and glassy-eyed, almost spilling the champagne in his lax grip, in the white tux he had been asked to wear. The black and red in the background a slap to Shiro’s face. It all screamed now after the final hour had already passed.

Unlike their last picture together, taken by Matt, that mocked him in his wallet where he carefully kept it hidden. Before their launch. Before Sendak. Before their fall to Earth.

Bright blue-violet eyes were shining along with the rare beaming smile. Hair caught in the wind, along with the laugh that had followed after the shutter snapped. They stood with arms around each other, his arm thrown over his shoulder, and Keith's around his waist.

Before. Before. Before it all went to hell.

The niggling voice in the back of his mind wondering if he had made a mistake. Taken everything wrong every time he pulled it out in the quiet moments when he found himself alone in his office.

Breaking a long standing promise of never giving up on him by thinking he was right in letting go. Expecting Keith to take flight with his own wings, only to watch him flounder on the ground. His own wings briefly clipped during his short retirement.

The shocking silence between them spoke volumes at Shiro. Every sent message remained unreturned and unread. He knew he was the only one left in the dark when Pidge had commented about Keith's pictures and messages.

She had assumed he knew the latest about Keith, too. He could only force a grin and nod along as the vice grew stronger around him. Squeezing without mercy until he was left an empty bleeding out shell – void of breath and voice. Left only with guilt.

In trying to guard his heart and keep their friendship, he had instead lost it completely. He had let it go up in flames until only ash remained, and the taste was bitter in the air.

He offered polite conversation only at the last reunion dinner despite his attempts before Keith disappeared back into space without another word to him.

A cough broke his thoughts, and he realized he was still staring. He looked away only for his eyes to lock onto something that made him want to scream.

His uniform was folded on the bedside dresser. His well-honed blade and wallet rested on top. Small knickknacks were in a medical bag to the side. A small broken shell. A casino chip. An archaic arcade token. A strange multicolored feather. A chain with small fobs in various designs and colors. Other unidentifiable items.

A wedding band with intertwined metals gleamed in the overhead lights. Twisted together and forged seamlessly into an unbroken circle.

After the facial scar, it was the next thing he noticed after falling to his knees at his side on the bridge while shouting orders. While clasping the sweaty shaking hand, his body twisting in quintessence induced convulsions, the ring had clinked off his prosthetic hand.

Curiosity ran up and down his spine along with an emotion he tried to deny. To suppress. He shoved it into the box with the other feelings he tried to ignore.

They refused to stay contained.

Somewhere in the future, Keith marries someone.

A green-eyed monster threatened to spew a demanding, “Who is it?” but he clenched his jaw until he could recall the words back out of his throat.

There are laugh lines. A fading kiss mark behind his ear even at his age. Another on his shoulder just peaking past the collar of the gown. The missing ring left an obvious line on his suntanned skin and an indentation at the knuckle.

His own band felt tight. Like it was about to cut his finger clean off his hand. He had no right to what he was feeling.

None.

“Now who's the old man?”

He only got a snort in answer. The scar pulled as his lip twitched.

“Keith.”

Silence.

“Keith, please.” It came out choked and strained. Tears threatened to gather, but he blinked them away.

Was it all really over? Did he really drive them so far apart that even years down the line they still didn’t speak to each other?

Without looking up, Keith moved and grabbed the nearby chair and pulled it up next to the bed before rolling over and facing away on his side.

“Please look at me. Will you ever talk to me again? This is the first time I’ve seen you…well you know what I mean, in months.”

“Ten months. Nine days.” The voice was a slightly rougher. Older, but he would recognize it even now in a crowded room.

He sat in the chair beside the bed, the specific answer burning in his mind. The silence almost deafening before he finally managed to come up with something to say.

“You’re aging.”

Another reason he pushed him away. He didn’t want Keith to watch him grow old. Even though his life would now be longer than he had ever hoped, dreamed, he would still age and die while Keith stayed young. Or, so he had thought.

“I didn’t get mom's longevity. She’s made her peace with it. I didn’t want to outlive everyone anyway. Lance is having enough trouble dealing with the thought, though.”

“Lance?"

“He's going to see us pass on while he lives. Allura's markings slowed his aging. It still shakes him up occasionally when he looks at us.”

“He's… Should you be telling me this?”

“He already knows. Coran ran some tests a few days after we got back to Earth. He's keeping it quiet for now, so don't tell anyone.”

“Okay. I won't.”

Another long silence.

“I didn’t think it would hurt so much.”

“What?”

“Seeing you like this. It's been so long, I almost forgot.”

“Forgot what, Keith?”

“I’m tired. I’m sure they need you back at the helm by now.”

It was a clear brush off.

“Keith.”

“Go, Shiro. Please, just go.”

“Just answer me this one question. Please."

“What?”

“Am I one of the people in the future trying to help get you back to your own time?”

“You wouldn't be of much help, but you'd try.”

*****

“Keith! No!”

Snapping awake, arm outstretched, the nightmare still flashed before his eyes. Keith falling over a cliff, eyes wide. Disappearing as gravity took hold. A sickening sound. Zethrid's laugh and words piercing like a blade as he yelled and lunged at her, vengeance and heartbreak beating in his skull.

Atlas rumbled and he felt her transformation from ship to robot floating in space, ready for a battle that didn’t really exist.

“For fuck's sake.” Curtis lurched out of the bed and glared at him. If the door could actually slam, it would have. Instead it gave a barely audible click as it slid shut behind him.

Leaving him still gasping, reeling. Alone.

*****

“We need you in the med bay. _Now.”_ The doctor's panic was clear.

“Why?”

“Mr… The black paladin won't stay in bed. We think you might be able to calm him down. He has a previous injury that might reopen.”

_Previous injury?_

“On my way. Coran, take the helm.”

“Of course.”

He didn’t want to identify the look Curtis was giving him. Another fight was brewing, but it would have to wait.

He nearly bit his tongue off when he hurried into the room. He froze midstep, stunned and struck dumb.

Keith was bare-chested except for a bloody bandage on his side. Loose scrubs barely clung to his hips. He _had_ grown a few inches, and Shiro had been _wrong._

Keith was taller than _him_ now by a few lines on the measuring tape. Unfamiliar scars and more tattoos with unknown meaning. His hair a tussled wavy river of thick black and grey cascading down his back and chest, down to his waistband.

His fingers itched to see if it was as soft as it looked. Faint memories of ruffling Keith's hair made him remember that, yes, it very much felt like the softest of velvets.

_Holy quiznak. Turn me every which way, but loose, please._

Visions fill his mind, none of them clean enough to even appear in a porn. He choked back a whimper.

_Bad thoughts, Shiro. Bad thoughts!_

A tiny Zelian female zipped around Keith's legs, begging him to lie back down on the bed so she could change his bandage. The ship’s doctor cowered under Keith's glare, eyes yellow with slit pupils.

“Keith, you need to be in bed. Let them help you.”

A blink.

The yellow grew darker, and fangs showed as teeth grit. The scar pulled his lips further, “Don't tell me what to do. _You_ don’t get to. Not now.”

He heard the unsaid, “Not ever again.”

“Okay. Okay.” He raised his arms in supplication, and he saw Keith's eyes lock onto his wedding band. An angry snarl startled them all before he disappeared into the bathroom.

Leaving Shiro feeling knocked off his feet. Keith had never spoken like that to him before. He really had ruined it all, and the pain in his gut almost took him to his knees for real.

The shower kicking on broke the silence.

“Well, I thought that would go a whole lot better given… but I can more than guess why.” The doctor gave him that odd look again. He looked like he wanted to say more, but his homeworld was well known for being excellent secret keepers. Even under mind control or torture, they never broke an oath.

*****

The screech was heard all the way down the hallway followed by loud sobs. A frantic shushing followed.

Looking in the room, younger Coran was openly weeping into the shoulder of his older self. “How long must we wait?”

He pat his younger self on the head. “Not long. Not long at all now.”

*****

He stopped short of entering the room with the lunch tray when he heard the sniffles. The door had opened soundlessly, keeping his arrival unannounced. He shuffled forward quietly to lean next to the door. He could only see the future Keith's feet on top of the blankets.

He recognized the next voice in an instant, less roughened with age. “How could he… Why?”

“There were several reasons. Many of them stupid, but that's him.”

“It hurts. It hurts so much.”

“I know it does. It still does even now when I think about it.”

“I would have done anything for him. _Anything.”_

“We're as much to blame as he is. Did we try to talk to him? Corner him?”

A small, “No.”

“We were scared. At first you didn’t know what you were feeling. You'd never felt like this before. We were confused until it was too late what with the war and Voltron weighing on our shoulders. Then the rebuilding and restructuring. In it all, we got twisted up until it was too late.”

“So I just let him marry someone else.”

“Yes. We did. Despite what we felt, we let him go because he was happy.”

He almost dropped the tray. He almost puked. He skin felt tight. Now the vague thought, the reason for the distance, was made real and clear. He had been wrong, and now Keith was in pain. So much pain.

He started to back away. Needed to run. Needed to grieve. Needed to throw himself out the nearest airlock in penance for what he had done. But a startled gasp sent him still.

“You finally saw it.”

“We get… We get married? To who?”

He needed to know the answer just as badly as Keith. The name of the person who would take Keith away from him forever. His mind still shrieked at him for his own stupidity.

A small chuckle, “You’ve already met him. You’ll meet again soon face to face.”

“I have? I do?”

“I can’t tell you too much. I’ll probably be yelled at as it is when we get back for doing this anyway. I’m breaking so many time-continuum rules right now. But, Coran will probably be blasted just as badly.”

“For what?”

“That’s another secret I can't share.”

“You can’t tell me?”

“No.”

“Why are you talking to me if you’re breaking rules?”

“There's an old song dad used to love playing for us. This is my letter to me.”

That caused an unseen wet laugh. “I’m not seventeen.”

“No. We were too busy looking to the sky then and screaming why.”

“Can you tell me about the...?”

“Scar? We save our husband's life. And, he's destroyed by it. Every day we have to tell him it’s okay, and that he was worth it. Once we stop running that is.”

“Running?”

“Yes. Because you’re afraid that what I’m telling you now isn't real. Because you hurt. You still hurt from Shiro marrying another. And it pains him that you don't believe him. He will know how he feels when you next meet but…there are…complications. He knows now. He has known for a while.”

“Then why doesn't he say anything to me?”

“He can’t. Not then. Not now. Not _yet._ But, he loves you. He wants to scream it, but he can't.

He's patient because he knows how you hurt. Why you hurt. In the end… He picks up the pieces of a shattered heart and puts it slowly back together piece by piece. You're so badly broken. You don’t trust anymore. You've drawn yourself in tight and only our mom and…the wolf…Yes, you will finally get his name…will be able to get through to you.

You will fight and argue. You break his nose, and he will leave it crooked because he thinks he deserves it. He’ll be so patient with you. He bends over backward and makes a fool of himself. And, you start to trust again.

You let him take you places. Little double dates where there’s safety in numbers. We'll collect items from each one. Like this feather. Isn't it beautiful? The queen herself plucks it from her plumage and gives it to you as a memory.

And this chip? Make sure to bet on eleven, odd, and black. Don’t forget. It’s one of the best nights of our life.

He will help through the Galra puberty that will hit you soon. It’s going to be a bitch. Aching joints, bones, and tissue growing too fast. You'll throw up. Seize. Hallucinate terrors and moments from our past during a high fever that break him, but he won’t show you because he doesn’t want you to worry. You’ll scream in pain, but he will be right there wiping your brow with a cool cloth and gentle words.

He'll train with you in amazement as we become _this_ before his very eyes. Watch for the drool. He tries to hide it.

We listen. We remember this very conversation. We heal, and we love again. So much it hurts, like now, but in a different way. A good way.

He's there waiting for us at the end of that aisle, smiling so big and crying at the same time. Because you love again. He's yours and you’re his and he will never let go.

He will love you with everything he is. Despite fights over the stupidest mundane things, he will always say 'I love you.' before going to sleep. Even if we're galaxies apart. He will overwork himself to the bone, but you know he will always come home to you.”

He hears more crying before he finally backs away. Now he knows how Keith must really feel. His heart is broken pieces clashing and grating in his chest.

In a daze, he makes it to his office before he lets the rest of himself fall apart. Guttural sobs and yelling. Atlas' alarms blared. Lights flickered. Her hull rattled with his pain. His desk cleaved in half by a sword he never knew was in the arm. Cursing himself. His ring thrown violently across the room with a bellow of self-directed rage.

Anguish and other emotions race up and down his spine. His fault. It was all his fault. It all could have been different. He was a fool. He hoped and prayed in other realities he got his head out of his ass and never let Keith go.

The door opened. “Takashi, what the hell is going on?”

“Get. Out! Get out! Get _out!”_

A yelp and Curtis disappeared through a hole in the floor, but he couldn't drag up one single fuck to care as Atlas led him to wherever she dropped him.

*****

“Ah. There's our method home.” The portal was a glimmering mass of something that looked like moving jello in the center of the room.

Coran was back in his original attire with Keith next to him in his cleaned uniform.  
He never did get a chance to ask about the strange symbol on the breastplate. Coran had one, too. The ring is back on his finger.

He knows he’s staring, but his brain still can’t quite comprehend that this is a Keith he no longer knows. Will never know, but someone else will.

Unanswered questions race through his mind.

_Do we ever talk again? When will you forgive me? When will I finally admit to you my stupidity? Do I know your husband? Are we friends again in the future?_

“Tell…Err.”

“I know what you mean, myself. I remember thinking it. I will.”

“Thank you.”

It made a weird slurpy sound that made him shiver as Coran stepped through and disappeared.

Keith doesn’t say anything. Just gives a small nod at him and that's it. Knowing what he knows now, he understands why.

“If you don’t get through this portal, I swear, Keith, your husband is going to jump through it. Timeline be damned.” Pidge’s voice spoke out of nowhere. Older and more mature, but filled with laughter.

Hunk's voice is next. “Hurry up! He's been going nuts even knowing you’re safe on the Atlas.”

There's laughter in the background. One voice in particular sends his back straight, and he turns slack-jawed at Coran, who simply shrugs at him. No one else seems to recognize it, and that sends a spike of anger through his gut.

“All right. Sheesh.” The smile is small and fond. Full of love as Keith finally steps into the swirling mass.

He hears a choked sound and “Oof. I missed you too, Starlight.”

More laughter before it faded like a ghost from the middle of the room.

*****

His first anniversary came and went without celebration. A full schedule led to a very public, very embarrassing argument in the mess hall that had the crew avoiding eye contact as he passed through the halls. Flecks of food still dotted his uniform where a tray had been slammed against the table.

There were things he needed to do. He was the captain of the Atlas. Time didn’t stop for an anniversary. If he destroyed a few training bots beyond repair during the combat lessons to vent his anger and frustration, so be it. They could take it out of his pay and pension.

Curtis slept in his former quarters that night, leaving Shiro to face it all alone. He had needed arms to hold him as he pulled himself together. When he found the loneliness too overwhelming after the paladins scattered across the universe. 

Now he knew those arms weren't what he had needed or wanted at all. It had been another pair attached to a strong, lithe body and blue-violet eyes. But, he had been too scared to let them wrap around him. Maintaining their friendship had been more important, but even that was destroyed by his actions. What a fool he had been.

He woke alone screaming a name, dreamscape fading yet vivid, the choked “I love you.” still ringing in in his ears like it had just been spoken into their shells.

A faceless man leaned to claim Keith’s hands in front of an alter. The fresh slash across his face still slowly dripping blood onto his white dress shirt. A declaration and badge of love for the man in front of him. Keith warped from lithe to bulk and back before his eyes.

The officiant, who strangely looked like a cross between Iverson and Coran with Slav's six arms gave the, “If anyone can show just cause why this couple cannot lawfully be joined together in matrimony, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.”

He tried to scream. He isn’t heard. His voice breaks and cracks into a void. He wonders if Keith had been doing the same during his own hastily put together wedding.

His own ring burns in damnation on his finger. Charring his skin until it bubbled and bled.

Exchanged vows. His brain writing Keith's filled with gratitude and small disguised jabs at Shiro and how this faceless man was worth so much more.

The love in Keith’s eyes burning bright. The same look he now realized had once been aimed at him. For him. The twisted metal ring slid onto his finger.

Then that same small nod before they turn into the sunset, leaning together as they walked away. Their shadows lengthening until they engulf Shiro in their darkness. He keeps screaming his name even as they fade into the distance.

He wakes up with that scream. Shivering and crying helplessly when he again remembers he ruined it all. His decisions and missteps caused this. He deserved every ounce of this pain.

Several hours later, he noticed a message on his data pad. The first contact in a year. Two simple words and a name. They send him into another fit of tears.

“Happy anniversary, Shiro.”

*****

It’s just shy of Keith's birthday when he found himself sitting two chairs away from him. His husband is between them, only at the negotiation table in the first place as a courtesy. Their both sat straight as a board and avoided any possible body contact.

He knows who it is. The second he saw the wide smile aimed at Keith, the broken pieces of his heart fractured even smaller. The remaining fragments rage at him. Still grieving what he had let go in his own foolishness. What could have been if he had only found his courage to face Keith.

He looks about Keith's age. An aspiring doctor, Stephen Childers, fresh out of medical school after a short internship with the Blades learning about different alien anatomy and physiology. He had heard tales of their adventures together from Hunk, who had permanently moved to the Atlas. Childers was set to join the relief efforts with the next mission.

Blond, clean-cut hair. Lean but toned muscles. A slight tan. From his sitting position, he couldn’t tell how tall he was. Maybe an inch or two taller than Keith, but that would change soon. He looked like he was wanting to burst when Keith waved across the table at him.

Childers tried to talk to Keith after the meeting, but he sees roadblock after roadblock come between them. He sees Childers' frustration mounting. His own mind hollering, “He isn't yours! I love him. Not you!”

But, he's not his. And never will be. This is the one who would claim Keith as his own. Keith Childers. Stephen Kogane. Neither sound right in his mind as bile threatens to rise up in his throat.

Another mental holler of anguish as Keith disappeared into the crowd. Again without a word to him.

Someone came to a stop next to him. “I saw things in the abyss he didn't. Give it time, and he will come back to you.” Her face is kind. Nonjudgmental. She had to know what he had done to her son.

“Krolia, how…”

“I forgave you long ago while in the abyss. He will be happy, Shiro.” She walked away, joining Kolivan against the wall. The looks between them let him know Keith wasn’t the only one who would find happiness.

A hand rest on his arm and he fought himself not to jerk away from the contact. He did care. He did have affection for his husband, but it didn’t run as deep as it did for Keith.

And, that led to more guilt. Emotional infidelity was still infidelity.

He needed to fix himself and his marriage. He needed to officially, finally let go, and relearn how to be happy with his choices. No matter how long it took or how hard it would be.

*****

He manages not to think about Keith for a week.

“Hey, Shiro, did you see that water? It’s orange! I haven't been there yet. It looks so awesome. I can’t wait to surf in it.” Hunk sat at the table next to him. Romelle and Shay were still in line deciding between the meatloaf or Gorblian stir-fry.

The spot next to him was empty due to another spat over house chores. All because he forgot in his tiredness from a long day to put the laundry back in the drawers and closet.

“Orange?”

“Some type of chemical mixed in the water, but it’s still safe to swim in it. You must not have seen it yet. Here. Look.”

After a few clicks, he spun his holopad into his line of vision.

It's Keith standing in front of rolling orange waves in a pair of black swim trunks. Sunglasses block out the view of his blue-violet eyes, but he knows they’re scrunched and squinting. His eyes were always sensitive to bright light.

Eyes that could turn yellow with vertical, slit-shaped pupils when under stress or in anger.

His own glasses slid down his nose as he bent to look closer. A small price to pay after the cameras were removed from Haggar's tampering with the clone.

He can still see well enough without them, but the Garrison had insisted he either opt for glasses or get corrective surgery in order to keep his command.

They also doubled as a direct connection to the bridge. Any important alerts scrolled across the bottom of the lenses. A gift from Pidge and Hunk at his wedding before his retirement.

Keith's sweaty and covered in flecks of sand. A smile for the camera as he waved. His muscles are not obscenely bulging, but just the right size for his smaller form. The Galra puberty must not have hit yet.

A dark trail drew the eye down from his bellybutton down washboard abs. He wondered if it was coarse or furry like his hair. He has to fight himself to look away.

But stills instead.

In the background, Childers was frozen in time in his own trunks, laughing as the wolf jumped up to lick his face.

Shells dotted the sand. He remembered the conversation and wonders which one will be chosen as the souvenir.

The chair fell over as he stood. “Excuse me.”

The nearest bathroom became the newest owner of chewed meatloaf and alien salad greens. Heaving and gagging until there is nothing left except spittle and tears.

*****

He tried for months. Phoebs. Tried to hold himself together. He tried to hold his marriage together.

They went on dates to nearby planets. He upped his attentiveness and tried to delegate his work better to save time. He tried to be a good husband.

He smiled and kissed his forehead. Took him wherever he wanted to go and did whatever he wanted to do.

Market stalls and bazaars. Space malls and amusement parks. Bars and space night clubs with weird beats that were hard to follow, and strange sounding musical instruments that left him with a headache. Nights with movies and popcorn.

He looked for whatever it was that caught his eye in the first place.

It was the separation between them that kept it from crumbling. Being together more made it worse. Arguments. Hurtful words. The lack of sex even though Curtis tried to push the issue. An offhanded jab at Keith almost made him hit Curtis. Instead he had slept in his office, dreaming about what could have been. His nightmares disrupted their sleep and made tempers shorten.

His tour was supposed to be up soon and he wanted to go home. Back to Earth to what remained of his family. He was done with space. The stars didn't sparkle for him anymore like they still did for Shiro.

The ultimatums started. The urging for him to take leave. Maybe retire again and resettle on Earth. Echoes of the past that made him bristle and fight back.

_“Let them find someone else to captain the Atlas.”_

_It was the wrong thing to say because she shut down so fast everyone on board lost their balance and started to float as gravity released them from its law. She didn’t restart until he apologized and promised not to abandon her again._

He tried counseling. He tried anything.

It was a Thursday when Shiro woke up alone. He found Curtis’ ring on the bedside table. The closet and drawers were emptied.

He had left on the first cargo ship back to Earth. There was no chance of catching him unless he broke orders and went off task. Grabbed an MFE, chased him down, and begged.

He couldn’t find the drive or motivation to do it. Not anymore.

It all fell apart before their second anniversary. A sandcastle too close to the shore when the tide changed. Once the foundation is damaged, no matter how you try to repair and stabilize, it gets swept away by the encroaching waves. The house of cards is finally destroyed by the wind.

His life was upended once again, but this time he was utterly alone.

*****

He kept it quiet. When asked he said Curtis was on leave visiting his family. Which for the most part was true. Hunk and Coran didn't believe him for a second, but they didn't pry.

If he called Keith now, he knew he would probably come running to help him. _As many times as it takes._ He didn’t want that with so much on the line. Keith needed to be happy first.

Keith would be risking himself for Childers sometime soon according to that video call. Would earn another scar across his face for a different loved one.

If Keith turned to him in his confusion, he would be supportive. He would listen. He would help set him on the path to healing and the ultimate end at an alter.

He only tells Sam and Colleen when the first videoconference with his soon to be ex-husband’s lawyer nears.

*****

The rumors started just after what would have been his second anniversary. He saw the crew's confusion when Curtis doesn't return. He still wore his ring despite the final papers already being electronically signed. It’s a façade, a disguise, in case the rumors made it back to Keith.

The split had been shockingly easy. Their marriage died with not even a whimper. Maybe it was already dead long before? Maybe its last breath was when he returned to duty?

None of their assets were merged. Shiro broke his part of the apartment lease. There wasn’t a house to sell or fight over. He gave Curtis the furniture. He wouldn't need them or the car out here. His clothes and other items were to be donated or sold with Curtis keeping the profits.

The only thing he asked for, wouldn't let go of, was his hoverbike. It was to be delivered with the next supply run. Too many fond memories clung to the metal. Keith's laughter. Cliff-diving. Pep talks. Sunsets. When he was whole and unscathed by war and the arena in his own body on a timer for his disease.

*****

Keith's face still lacks the new scar. His body still lithe, but strong. More pictures of Childers and him show up in his messages almost daily. He sees them now because Matt and Pidge had nailed him down and made him talk about everything when they came to visit their parents.

_Pidge had huffed with an, “Keith didn’t hide it very well. Everyone saw it. Curtis even knew, but that didn’t stop him.”_

_“Wh…What?”_

_“Yup. He rubbed the engagement right in Keith's face. What a dick move.” Her voice turned simpering. “'I managed to snag Takashi Shirogane. Won’t people be so jealous? He could have chosen anyone. Even an Altean, Galran, or a half breed. But, he chose me. Lucky human me.' Asshole.”_

_“He said that? To Keith?!” Visions of tossing Curtis through the plate glass of the restaurant flashed. Atlas rumbled._

_“Keith went Galra teeth and claws. I thought he was going to kill him, but you came back from the restroom. Hunk looked like he was going to blow up. Lance was so red I saw smoke coming out of his ears. I almost punched him myself. Even Coran looked ready to commit an act of violence. Why do you think Curtis demanded to go home before dinner even arrived?”_

_“I didn't… I didn't know. I never would have… He said he didn’t feel well. Quiznak, why didn’t you tell me about this?!” If only he hadn't been detained by the owner that night. Their relationship would have been dead in the water. Full stop. He would have slapped Curtis with every sanction he could, and buried him on latrine duty for the rest of his career._

_“Keith asked us not to tell you just like he did Naxzela. Keith left for Diabazaal the next day. We couldn't believe you didn’t see it, too. We tried to warn you.”_

_Matt spoke up, “You wouldn't listen. Not even to me or dad.”_

_“I know.”_

_“I’m sorry, bud.”_

_“It's my bed. I made it. I just need to learn to lie in it. Wait…Naxzela? What happened at Naxzela?”_

_“Ooooh boy.”_

_“Oops.”_

Pidge forwarded each photo to him. It hurt, but also helped Shiro by knowing Keith was so happy, although the shoulder touches made his emotions boil.

*****

A bad nightmare of the arena woke him up. Gasping, he tried to focus. Tried to count different things like he had been shown by his therapist. Something he could hear. See. Touch. Smell.

Keith. He needed Keith.

Breaking, he grabbed for his holopad and pulled up Keith's contact information.

A buzz.

“Hello? Keith Kogane isn't available right now. Can I take a message?”

Childers. A ruffled, sleepy, naked from the waist up Childers.

“Ah. No. That's okay. I’ll call again tomorrow.” He hung up before Childers could respond.

He didn’t call back, but neither does Keith.

*****

He glared at himself in the mirror. What had he become? He barely recognized himself anymore. Not even thirty yet, but he looked and felt older.

The haircut and couldn’t even be called a beard chin hairs didn’t help. He was gaining a little pudge around his waist from lack of exercise.

Living, but not alive.

Atlas rumbled underneath him. Something grabbed him around his head and torso. Thin filaments of metal ensnared his arm in midair. He tried to escape her hold, but she just pulled tighter.

“What the?! Hey! What are you doing?”

Laser tipped metal tentacles appeared in his vision. A can of some spray he couldn't read and a pair of scissors. A razorblade gleamed in the bedroom light.

His glasses were pulled off his face. He felt tiny wires move around his head and open his eyelids wide. The lasers crept closer. “Wait! Are you programmed to do this?! Atlas!"

*****

“Whoa, Captain, how’d you get the floof back?” Kinkade kept his camera rolling.

“Don’t ask.”

“Shirogane, no flying without your glasses. Garrison orders.”

“Atlas took care of that, Iverson.”

Coran sniggered. “The whatever that was on your face, too, I take it.”

“All right, laugh it up, you all.”

“Your look good, captain.”

Later, to his horror, his food was snatched out from in front of him. A salad floated on a hovertray from the kitchen and ever so gently settled in its place.

Griffin laughed. “That's one mean ship you have here, sir.”

Then the hallways kept rearranging themselves. He heard yelps and confusion as others were jostled around as well. Every way he turned led straight to the gym instead of his room. “All right. All right. Sheesh.”

A soundtrack of a woman laughing came through the nearby speaker. All he could do was shake his head and follow her orders.

*****

News spread fast.

Planets that were once dead were reviving. Planets that had been destroyed were suddenly back and flourishing.

Olkarians celebrated the return of their home planet. Refugees no longer as they flocked back home, Pidge in their midst in happy confused tears.

Whispers of a tall woman in white robes breathing life back into the universe.

Echoes over transmission feeds called them home.

Shiro knew. Coran was barely holding himself together.

They're all there on New Altea waiting when she finally returned. Their heartbeat was back as they all fell together in tears of joy. The lions roar.

Strangely he heard it in his head. Atlas tinkled in amusement with the gentle rumble. He stared at Black. One eye lit down and up again like she was winking at him. His head was getting crowded. He wanted to laugh, but Allura spoke first.

“We fixed what was done, but I couldn’t leave. Not with the entity still inside me. Honerva grew so angry, she pulled it out of me with her bare hands using quintessence from the lions.

Unfortunately that drained them, so our travel was very slow. I did what I could as I made my way back. But, I’m here to teach about quintessence and the entities. I will destroy them when they escape.”

“You’re back.” Lance held her tighter in his lap.

“I’m finally home.”

*****

The celebrations were outlandish. Each planet tried to outdo the other.

The Atlas is in the distance with the lions proudly in front, glistening in the twin suns. Several Blade members, Krolia, Kolivan, and Childers lead the way. The MFE's wave in front of him. He's in uniform and smiling as he walks by the gathered crowd. The others are behind him with Allura on a raised dais float.

Holograms of the lions and Atlas twist and soar around them, occasionally combining or transforming to the crowd's delight.

He hears a shout of his name and turns to wave. His other arm is slightly ahead of him entertaining a pair of young children.

Leaping up over the crowd with frog-like legs is an angry refugee Shiro instantly recognizes. The invading Galra had reduced him from prince to pauper. He had wanted the Coalition to help take back his reign, but Shiro had shot him down hard after learning he was even crueler to his subjects than the Galra Empire had been.

He can’t call his arm back in time. Black roars as Atlas' sirens blare. Someone is lunging from the float in his peripheral vision.

“Shiro!”

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Bonus scene:

“Missed you.” Shiro buried further into Keith's neck.

“You knew I was fine, worrywart.”

“Maybe if you hadn’t just been _stabbed_ I wouldn’t have been so worried. I still remember you snarling at me.”

“Sorry about that.”

Shiro stepped back, but didn't remove his arms from around his waist. “I deserved it. I still can’t believe I was so stupid.”

“You thought I was going to marry _Childers._ Stupid is right.”

“Hey now. Low blow.”

“You never told me you threw a tantrum after overhearing me. You almost broke Atlas.”

“I broke my desk instead. Sliced it in half actually. Then Atlas dumped Curtis in the trash receptacle. Wow, was he ever pissed.”

“So _that's_ how you discovered the sword. It’s good that Atlas recognizes rubbish when she sees it. He tried to get back together with you right after Allura returned.”

Shiro snorted a laugh. “You very quickly put him in his place. He pissed himself thinking you were going to slit his throat.”

“I would have, too. Your tacked on ‘I choose Keith. Half-Galran, half-human, I don't give a fuck about that Keith. Keith is Keith.’ was the cherry on top. He knew you knew.”

“No, you wouldn't have. If I called in a few favors afterward to make his life miserable… Oh well. Last I heard he finally quit after freezing his ass off in Antarctica at a Garrison outpost. Pidge still has him blackballed.”

“Ouch. Vindictive little Pidgy.”

“Couldn't you have been a _little_ more specific in that conversation?”

“Nope. I’m surprised I even remember what was said back then. I remember sitting on my bed staring at the older me through the screen. At first I thought I was dreaming. Somehow I repeated it word for word to the younger me. Wait. Did what I just say make sense?”

Shiro laughed. “Yes. Glad to have you back.”

“It's good to be back. Now, about those looks you kept giving me. They gave me…ideas.”

“I vaguely…I take that back. I very well remember what I was thinking back then.”

“Our room. _Now.”_

**Author's Note:**

> *Before anyone asks, Keith's relationship with my original character was strictly fwb, but Shiro didn't know that.
> 
> **Comments are food for the soul.


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